


Loveless Lullaby

by CuratioLethe



Category: Loveless
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuratioLethe/pseuds/CuratioLethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loveless drew his last breath clinging to only the memory as the memory hummed him to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loveless Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Inpsired by the song, "Whiskey Lullaby." I was working on "Beneath the Stars of our Sin." when this song came up on my playlist and inspired me to explore the possibility of Ritsuka taking Soubi's departure in volume nine far harder than he actually did.

"You've never wanted it before."

"I can't take it anymore, Sensei. I'm exhausted... "

"I really think you should talk about whatever's bothering you so much that you can't sleep."  
"I..can't. Not yet. Please, Sensei."  
"...Alright, then Ritsuka. I'll prescribe you something to help you sleep, but as soon as you get some rest, I want you to come talk to me about this. I've never forced you to tell me anything that you didn't want to, and I'm not doing that now, but I am strongly encouraging you to."  
"Alright, Sensei."   
*~*~*~*~  
The apartment was more than dark, almost as if its disuse over the past few months had sucked the very life from the place. No one had been here, Ritsuka knew, not even it's owner. Everything sat in its place in which it had been last used; game controllers strewn about, bed still merticulouly made, paint brushes crusted from where it had been left in a hurry and remained undisturded. A faint trace of dust coated every surface, even the floor, where only one, small pair of foot prints had encoarched upon the surface, his own. 

It was the silence that was the most defeaning of all the details, however, and the faint rattle against plastic seem almost blasphemous in this quiet, as if to harken to even the ghosts that did not linger any longer.   
Bed springs squeaked far louder than his weight would have normally demanded, and it only served as an excrutiating reminder of what was missing. Not just from the apartment, but from the hollows of his chest.   
He had searched for so long, yielding no results; had called and cried and begged to a sky that was as unrelenting of a response as was the intended recipitent. And with each denial of a word or even a brief flicker of delusion, the pain had begun to manifest into something more, something deeper, devouring its source until the something became nothing and that nothingness began to choke him. 

Ritsuka couldn't do it any more. Soubi had been the one to bring him back to life when life had been no more than waiting for an end, an achor that reharnessed and relit a purpose. And now that it was gone, everything that had once been color and music and life was slowly, excruitiningly drained into the monotonus blend of black and white. Ritsuka had endured so much, so much that he should have been strong enough to shoulder this as well.   
But he wasn't. Ritsuka had been knocked down too many times, and this time... he simply didn't have the strength to get up off his knees. Not anymore.   
The cap of the vial hit the blanket without a sound and one by one, Ritsuka washed down each wave of emotion, each memory bleached of life until only those as vibrant as the butterfly paintings that surrounded him remained. 

And when the last was swallowed and the bottle rolled away, Ritsuka pulled out a photo from his pocket, before crawling down under the sheets that had, blissfully, as if some diety above were finally taking pity upon him, retained their scent, awashing him in the smell of cigarettes and heady, heavy sweeten musk and everything that ever had enevloped him when lying arms had promised to shelter him. 

He studied the face in the photo until his eyes became too heavy to hold themselves open and when he couldn't look, he weakly clutched it to his chest instead.   
Under the warmth of sheets and the scent of home that permeated his senses, Ritsuka could almost pretend that Soubi held him as he drifted and the world around him faded into nothingness.   
Loveless drew his last breath clinging to only the memory as the memory hummed him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was done purely for the sake of doing it and because I had the inspiration. I in no way think that Ritsuka would actually commit suicide, lest of all over Soubi. If I'm later feeling froggy enough, I'll write a reaction companion fic.


End file.
